


Bullets and Bogues

by writingramblr



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Noir, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dames & Detectives, Eventual Smut, F/M, Film Noir, Fluff, M/M, Mobsters & Mayhem, Multi, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Romance, Sirens, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-17 08:48:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8137811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: A (short) yarn about a Detective, a Rogue, and a Dame.Bart Bogue is a crime family heir, and has been causing trouble, so much so that innocents get dragged into the war going on in the streets.Emma Cullen is one such victim, and she searches out the man who she knows can set it right...Detective Chisholm.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> oh hey look another oops AU story. that i am very proud of the cover for heh

 

* * *

 

_If you need a gun for hire, there’s always Josh Faraday. He’s wild, unpredictable, and always a charmer with the ladies._

_Dames, honestly, I’m not much for them._

_I just prefer to solve the cases and cash the checks._

_But of course, that’s how you get sloppy, boring and tired._

_You get used to things being easy, and only needing fire power in limited capacity._

_Josh is out of town for the weekend, taking a well earned vacation, and here I am, still in the office._

_It’s hot as hell inside the building, but outside? Freezing fucking October._

_There’s a slamming door, and I hope it’s not anyone coming this way. I can’t take another dreary case. I want to go home and finish the bottle of rum in my kitchen cabinet._

_But unfortunately, god decides it’s time to play a joke on me._

_Sending me a dame._

_She looks half starved and like she’s in the wrong side of the country. In need of some sun._

_“Please Mister Chisholm, I need your help.”_

_“Honey,” I begin, but she shakes her head, and tosses a wad of paper at me._

_Holy shit._

_Its all twenties._

_I didn’t even name a fee._

_“That’s all I have, and I just need you to listen.”_

_I thumb through the stack, and then nod, sitting down and gesturing for her to do the same._

_Until she starts talking, and I realize just what the fuck I’ve gotten myself into._

*

Emma Cullen was not a desperate woman, usually, but a series of events had forced her hand, and when facing a mob of guns armed to the teeth, it was time to learn when to seek outside assistance.

“They killed my husband, shot him right in the street, and nobody called for police, nobody did nothing.”

The man behind the desk, Detective Chisholm, as he had plastered on the glass door leading to his office, looked up at me, from where he’d only been fondling the money she handed over, and she realized it wasn’t a trick of the light, dim as hell, he was dark skinned.

“So you seek revenge? I’m not sure I can really help with that. I solve cases the police won’t touch; I don’t get involved in crimes of the mob.”

He grinned, displaying shockingly white teeth, and continued,

“I’m not suicidal, no matter how much you pay me.”

Emma got to her feet, suddenly angered beyond measure,

“I’m not asking you to go after them alone, I want their crimes brought to light. I want justice, not revenge. Righteous fury is all I have right now. That’s my entire life savings, much as I could scrounge from the bank without being too suspicious. I asked for my family to help, and they said I was on my own.”

She balled her hands into fists, and fought every fiber in her being to resist the urge to cry, she’d done enough of it in the last few days.

“Ma’am, what you’re asking is impossible.”

Chisholm reached up to push his hat back, revealing his eyes to her for the first time, like twin black holes, they seemed to hypnotize her, and all she could say was,

“Nothing is impossible for you. I’ve read the papers. Do you deny it?”

He sighed, and shook his head,

“No ma’am I do not. Give me a day or so to think it over. I’ll call you.”

He tossed the money back, and she caught it, staring down at it for a moment, before frowning.

“Are you sure? You could keep half, if that would help?”

He shook his head again,

“I need to confer with my associate. If he agrees, or can convince me why I should accept, you’ll be back here soon enough.”

She nodded.

It was better than a firm ‘no.’

She plucked a card from her purse, before tucking the money back inside it, and placed it behind the plaque on his desk.

“That’s where you can reach me. Thank you in advance Detective.”

“Ma’am.”

She walked away, and tried to fight the wave of despair washing over her. If she never heard from him, there was nothing more she could do.


	2. Chapter 2

“What’s that?”

Josh Faraday couldn’t hear for shit over the squeals of the blondes playing in the pool across from the bar, and he waved to them, ensuring they knew he’d return soon enough.

“I said, I want to know how badly you want to stick it to Bogue. I know you’ve got a torch for revenge for him, and this could be the leverage we need to blow his operation wide open.”

Josh pressed his hand to his forehead, unwilling to believe what he was hearing.

“You’re suggesting taking on the heir to the Manhattan mob? For what? Must be some serious dough in this.”

“It’s more than that. The dame who came in had been shunned from her whole family, watched her husband die right in front of her. She’s after justice that no court will give her.”

Josh sighed,

“You’re joking. You let some dame sweet talk you? You? That’s my job, not yours. Pretty faces come to me.”

He winked at the blonde who walked by, practically naked but for two bits of black fabric.

“Either you’re in and we take the case, or you’re out, and I call her with the bad news. Make up your mind Faraday.”

Fuck. He was using his last name.

Sam only did that when he was deadly serious.

That was what they might just be at the end of all that.

Dead.

“All right, goddamnit. I’ll be on my way back before Monday. This better be good.”

He slammed the phone down before Sam could say goodbye, and shook his head.

“I’m too young for this shit, pour me another tequila.”

Josh downed it in half a second, and then turned back to the blondes, hell, it might be his last day in the sun, might as well enjoy it.

“Ladies!”

*

Sam Chisholm was anything but a traditional sort of detective. In fact, he tended to break more bones than cold cases, but it always got the job done. Skirting the mob, the Bogue family, was just a daily sort of hazard, and knowing the right people in low places usually did the trick.

However, the idea of actually going behind their back, and trying to take them down from the outside, was a daunting task, and Sam knew he couldn’t do it alone, much less without his partner.

Faraday wasn’t a detective by any means, he was more like Sam’s hired gun, and his underground connections were helpful more than nine times out of ten.

It didn’t mean Sam couldn’t handle himself in any kind of firefight, but he quite preferred to talk things out first, then use his fists when push came to shove, and it usually did.

Faraday thought himself an amateur magician, and sometimes his little distractions could be useful, but most times they just annoyed the shit out of Sam, and he knew it.

Once he returned to his office, late Monday morning, he knew Faraday wouldn’t be back yet; he licked his thumb before picking up the dame’s card, and sighed, dialing her number.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Cullen? It’s Detective Chisholm. I’ve spoken with my associate, and we’ve decided to take your case.”

“It’s Miss, but thank you, thank you so much. You don’t understand how grateful I am.”

Sam pushed his thumb between his eyebrows, fighting off the hangover which tried to linger,

“No, it’s all right. No thanks necessary. Just come by the office with the money as soon as you can, and we can start the details.”

“Yes, okay. I can be there around two o’clock, is that okay?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“God bless you.”

She hung up before he could say that God sure as hell didn’t have anything to do with this, not where the Bogue’s were concerned, but he didn’t want to scare her. She was probably pretty well aware of the lengths, or depths, those people were willing to go to.

What she didn’t know, was how far he and Faraday could match them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not even done with this and i've already got a third AU idea pls make me stop


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Josh walked in, still halfway through smoking a menthol, he could hear the dame talking. Sam wasn’t doing too much of that himself, doing the listening, playing the good cop, or detective.

That’s where he came in, the opposite.

Well, he was charming for the dames of course, but he also played hardball when he had to. He’d made an old lady cry once, but in all fairness, it had been an accident.

“What’s going on here?”

He took a deep drag, and flicked the butt into the ashtray that sat to Sam’s left side, and turned to face the dame.

He exhaled promptly, and then his words died on his tongue.

Hair the color of ripe cherries framed a face so pale it might have been porcelain, and eyes like shamrocks blinked up at him, before she was speaking, introducing herself and asking who he was.

“Joshua Faraday ma’am, but you can call me Josh.”

He didn’t even have anything else clever to say, so Sam took over, explaining exactly what he did and how he would help.

The stack of green on Sam’s other side wasn’t nearly as interesting as the dame’s eyes, Emma, Miss Cullen, whatever.

He was utterly silent as she resumed explaining the case, and Sam began tossing around ideas, theories for where they could get started, and she dropped the bombshell.

“I’m coming with you.”

Josh blinked, and then shook his head, beating Sam to the punch.

“Sure as shit you ain’t. Working a case ain’t no place for a dame, I mean, lady.”

Sam looked less like he was going to argue with her, and more like he was staring Josh down.

“You can’t be serious…you support this?”

Sam shrugged.

“She’s got the inside knowledge we need. Besides, Bart doesn’t remember her. He shot, how many, seven people that night?”

She nodded, solemn, and Josh could see her eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

“So he doesn’t think about every person he’s taken out because they stood up to him or spoke back to him…doesn’t mean it isn’t a huge risk.”

“Disguise. I’ve got plenty of wigs, dark sunglasses. Don’t worry so much about me. You’ve already been paid.”

Josh looked at Sam, but he wasn’t offering anything.

Not even trying to fight her.

Josh wasn’t sure if he liked that or not.

But she was a determined little thing, so he finally nodded.

“Whatever you say, boss.”

*

Emma didn’t like wigs in general, they were itchy, hot, and overall, a nuisance. But a very necessary thing, because even if Bart Bogue was as stupid as he was cruel, he might just recall her red hair, and that was indeed something they could not afford.

Currently, she was strolling in front and into the main bar where he and his men hung out and around most Friday nights’ and with Joshua at her side, they posed as a normal sort of pair, just looking for a drink or two, before maybe some dancing.

Originally Sam had offered to play the part of paramour, but Joshua had argued he was far too recognizable, and also would stick out like a sore thumb.

It was a disgusting truth, but Sam was forced to accept it, more often than not, Emma suspected.

So Sam was trailing them, ears enhanced by a mechanical gadget she’d never seen the likes of before.

“Built specifically for eavesdropping from a distance,” Joshua murmured into her ear, as if reading her mind.

“I see.”

She replied, slowly reaching up to lower her sunglasses, now superfluous by the dim lighting inside the bar.

The smart cap she wore overtop her black wig was plenty disguising enough, and she looked very different from her usual self, with bright lipstick, and dark eyemakeup, she was further from the meek housewife she’d ever been.

When Joshua had first laid his eyes on her, like that, he’d actually been speechless, before finding something to critique, and Sam had told her she’d do fine.

She wasn’t sure why Joshua didn’t like her, but she was far too frightened at the proximity to Bogue’s men to care about that.

They were to get in, let Sam get as much information as he could, and then retreat.

Of course, from the beginning, she’d had a feeling in her gut things wouldn’t go perfectly as planned, and it turned out, Joshua had been right to assure her they were both wearing vests that would ensure any stray bullets, that might take flight, wouldn’t touch them.

It didn’t matter, she still screamed when she saw Sam take a hit, just to the right of his heart.

By the time Joshua had pushed her to the ground and behind a chair, and fired his own gun back, it was over.

Only one of Bogue’s men had survived, and Sam was threatening him, telling him to take a message back to his boss.

Emma wasn’t sure she could stop shaking if she tried.

“What is going to happen now?”

Joshua winced, before reaching Sam’s side, and patting his arm to come away covered in blood.

“Hospital visit, then we’re gonna have to prepare for a real fight.”

“I’ve got to break into Bart’s office, and the only way to do that, is to get in his building. With a distraction.”

“Or two.”

Joshua added.

Emma was just trying not to faint from the blood.

“It’s just a flesh wound. Don’t worry. The vests did their job.”

Sam was probably assuming he was comforting her, but her vision was already blurring.

Luckily Joshua was closest, and he caught her.

“Delightful creature ain’t she?”

Sam’s reply was a garbled echo, and her eyes slide shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the lack of update, my muse has been...faint


End file.
